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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26224633">Second Nature</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/VergerBloom/pseuds/VergerBloom'>VergerBloom</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Hannibal (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Domestic, Domestic Fluff, Fluff, Hannigram - Freeform, Kissing, M/M, Murder Husbands in Cuba, Post-Fall (Hannibal), Romantic Fluff, they're so in love</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-09-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-09-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 10:28:05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>823</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26224633</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/VergerBloom/pseuds/VergerBloom</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Hannibal teaches Will piano in Cuba.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>63</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Second Nature</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Will liked the evenings in Cuba best. </p><p>He was still acclimatising to the heat of the day; the sun rose in power in the early morning, washing the townhouse he and Hannibal shared in Varadero in a vivid gold. He found the heat a little stifling, the chatter of the day chaotic; he'd spent half his life in the cold, grey, climate of Virginia, his house an anchor in the middle of a cold, white, sea. The sea here was warm, lurid blue, and clear, and when Hannibal slipped his hands around Will's waist, chin pressed against his hair, the heat and the noise faded into nothing. </p><p>That evening, when Will drained his bath, slipping on his robe and padding down the hallway, feet bare, he heard music from the living room, as he often did.The house was warm, comfortably so, the sun's fierce glare finally dimishing as nightfall approached, amber fading into muted purples and deep indigo. The door was open, Hannibal sitting at the piano, eyes distant as he played. Will stilled for a moment, leaning his head against the door, a faint smile playing on his lips. He liked to watch Hannibal play, watch his poised frame slacken, his eyes grow distant, unguarded. The grand piano was sleek black, edged with silver, matching the loose cotton shirt Hannibal wore, rolled up to the elbows. He stilled, eyes coming back into focus. </p><p>"Chopin's Berceuse," Hannibal stated, still facing the piano. Will smiled a little at how perceptive Hannibal was about him; he recognised his footsteps, his heartbeat, the lilt in his voice. "It's a lullaby," Hannibal continued, turning slowly on the piano stool. His expression was serene, a small smile ghosting his lips. "Come, sit," he gestured to the space next to him on the stool. Will nodded, walking to him, the wood floor cool on his bare feet. He slid his hands over Hannibal's shoulders, kissing his neck lightly, before falling into place next to him. </p><p>"He spoke of this piece little, but said that, after a career of playing so many notes," Hannibal lifted Will's fingers gently to the keys, "he found that the beauty of music lay in its simplicity." Hannibal played the first motion slowly, fingers barely pressing the keys. Will attempted a clumsy imitation, fumbling the notes, and laughed a little to himself.</p><p>"I feel as though that beauty may be lost on me," he replied, trying again. Hannibal smiled faintly, eyes gentle. "I've never understood how you play like that, how anyone does, as though you're not thinking about it." He tried again, this time worse than the last. "See?!" He laughed to himself, turning to Hannibal. "I always press too hard on the keys."</p><p>Hannibal smiled, then turned back to the keys, playing the beautiful motion fluidly. <em>It did sound like a lullaby</em>, Will thought to himself, dreamy and soft. "When you repeat a motion often enough," Hannibal continued, still playing the piece, "It becomes automatic; second nature." The piece finished as slowly and delicately as it had begun, Hannibal hovering his fingers over the keys for a few moments as the sound rang out around the spacious room. Will was watching him intently, eyes almost awestruck. Hannibal turned to him then, and took his hands in his own, pressing them towards his chest. The room was cast in silver now, white light dappling the oak floor like ripples in water. Hannibal's hands were warm and calloused, strong. How could hands so strong play something so gentle?</p><p>"I can show you again tomorrow, if you'd like," Hannibal said softly, eyes flicking to Will's. Will nodded, pressing his forehead to Hannibal's. </p><p>"As long as you don't expect me to play it well," Will replied smiling. Hannibal laughed low in his throat, then brought Will's hands to his the sound, pressing them against his pulse point. Will pressed forward, kissing Hannibal deeply on the mouth, sliding his hands into Hannibal's hair. It was longer than Will had ever seen it, curling in soft strands around his neck and ears. Hannibal brought his hands up to Will's hips, then slid them under his robe, palms fanning out over Will's tan skin. Will pulled back a little, pressing a kiss to his throat. The room was dark now, everything in it smoke and shadow except Hannibal's eyes, which were bright and wide. </p><p>"Come, it's late," Hannibal said, slipping his hands from where they rested at Will's waist and standing, offering Will his hand. Will smiled, slipping his hand into Hannibal's and pushing himself to his feet. They walked leisurely out of the room, the pressure of Hannibal's hand against the small of Will's back warming his skin through the thin fabric of his robe. As they climbed the staircase to their room, Will smiled to himself in the dark, knowing that tomorrow he'd wake up to light and water, and the familiarity of Hannibal's body against his. </p><p> </p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thanks for reading :)</p></blockquote></div></div>
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